Mercy
by BabiStarLite
Summary: "This isn't right! You shouldn't be here." Dean sighed huskily, looking away from Cas who was mere inches away. "Then tell me to leave."
1. Chapter 1

**Hi people! So this is just an idea that I had. I'm not sure if I'll go through with it or not. It will be rated M and it will be slash, which I have never tried before. So if you are interested in it, then let me know and I'll continue it! **

Dean Winchester stood in the enormous classroom of Mercy college, leaning against the large desk in the front of the room talking on his cellphone. He rubbed his hand over his chin and mouth and spoke in a low tone.

"No I haven't seen him yet...Well dad, all we have is a name. We aren't even sure if it is a real name. For all we know he could be using a fake name. Hell!" he stood up and paced, "For all we know, the demon was lying about him and I am here for absolutely no reason." he slapped his hands down on his legs. "He didn't tell us why this kid is such a threat. He didn't tell us how he had anything to do with the god damned apocalypse. So why the hell are we doing this?"

Dean sighed as his father spoke to him in a rough tone. Of course he already knew the answer. They had to do whatever they could to stop what was about to occur from happening. Something was going on around the world- something an ordinary person wouldn't really notice, such as disasters and freak accidents and such. But of course, Dean and his father knew that it was the beginning of the end. They just didn't know how to stop it. But they were going to do whatever they could, and if that meant some piss poor stunt demon told them there were answers in this person- or this thing- then they were going to do everything they possibly could to get answers from him. The demon spoke with fear when he talked about him.

"Yeah okay." he snapped his phone shut.

What would a demon possibly be afraid of?

"He's the beginning of the end." the demon had said. Dean remembered all of the things his father had done to the demon to get a name out of her before killing her.

"Castiel."

* * *

Cas walked into class, his eyes darting around the room in search for a seat. He found an empty seat in the middle of the amphitheater. He set his binder and book down on the attached table in front of him and leaned back in his seat, looking up towards the teacher who was casually leaning against the edge of his desk, his arms crossed. According to the whiteboard behind him, his name was Dean Harvelle. He seemed awfully young to be a teacher. The large doors of the classroom slammed shut, snapping Cas out of his thoughts instantly. The room went silent for what seemed like several moments. The teacher just simply looked at the enormous class, arms still crossed. He raised his eyebrows before dropping them just as quickly.

He finally spoke, his husky voice filling the room.

"I could start off by introducing myself and stating what the class is about." He loosened his tie. "But that would be redundant and, well, not a very good way to catch your attention. It would be boring." There were slight nervous chuckles throughout the room. "Hell," he continued, "who am I kidding? How else are you supposed to know unless I tell you? I have no clever starter conversation for this class, however-" he straightened his posture as the class laughed a little more easily now, "I can inform all of you that you have nothing to worry about. I'm a hell of a guy." Again, the class laughed.

"I'm Mr. Harvelle, and welcome to debate. I have to let you all know that there are going to be topics in this class that will cause controversy, so if you can't take topics such as politics, laws, abortion,-" he made finger quotes, "-love, and reasons why classic rock is better than all other opposing music" –the class laughed- "then feel free to leave now." He motioned towards the doors as it became silent in the room. A few people rose from their seats and left.

"You're going to be working extremely hard this semester. So I hope you didn't expect an easy way out. This is not a class where you simply talk or argue with your peers. You will also be writing your point of views in weekly essays I will assign at the end of every week. I have very strict grading. It's all or nothing in my eyes so either you ace it, or you fail it. There are no grades in between. Okay!" he clapped his hands together and looked around the enormous class. "Take two. To those who feel they can't handle this class, there's the door." He patiently waited as more and more people exited the classroom. As the doors finally slammed shut for the last time, he smiled big. "Well now that we got rid of the slackers, welcome."

The following day, Mr. Harvelle had the first assignment ready.

"I want all of you to write me an essay first, introducing yourself, and second, explaining the one thing that pisses you off." The class wasn't very responsive, unsure if he was joking or not. By the look on his face, you could tell he wasn't. He grinned at the class, his smile instantly drawing attention. "Seriously guys. I want it done by the end of the period. This determines whether or not I want you in my class." Without another word, he sat at his desk. Everyone began to write, including Cas who kept glancing between Mr. Harvelle and his paper. He found himself slightly irritated that the teacher didn't seem to take the class very seriously. He began to write.

When the bell rang, everyone turned in their papers and headed out.

The next day, Mr. Harvelle gave the class a lecture involving tips on debating and making points in your arguments. The bell rang after the hour and a half period was up. Cas grabbed his things, being one of the last to exit the classroom. He heard Mr. Winchester call out.

"Blue eyes." He snapped his fingers and looked up. Cas turned around to see who he was talking to. He was looking straight at him and nodded him over. Cas obliged, tightening his jaw. Dean began to talk.

"So I read your paper."

"Okay." Cas replied simply, causing Dean to scoff in a small laugh.

"Okay-" he turned towards his desk, picking up Castiel's paper and reading off of it. "'Something that pisses me off is someone who has a job that they don't take seriously. Especially when they crack poor jokes just to get those around them to accept and warm up to them."' Dean raised his eyebrows at the student, who didn't seem phased by the teacher in the slightest.

"I don't see your purpose in reading my assignment to me. I wrote it. I know what it says." He said casually and oddly respectfully. Dean's eyebrows lowered.

"What does Cas stand for?"

"Castiel." There was a slight break in the conversation before Dean continued.

"Well Cas, I don't think writing like this will get you on my good side, which is the side that decides who gets into the class and who doesn't." he stated.

"Well, Mr. Harvelle,-"

"Dean."

"-well Mr. Harvelle," he continued anyway, "unlike some, I do not wish to change my opinions just to get on someone's 'good side.' That would be rather redundant and a desperate way to get your attention." Dean held in a chuckle as the student countered and quoted him from his first day speech.

They stood there for a moment in silence, not breaking eye contact.

"Welcome to the class Cas."

**Well, like I said, it was an idea that popped into my head and I'm not sure if I will continue or not. I guess it all depends on the readers thoughts. I have it all in my mind what I want to do and where I want to go with this story. Hope someone liked it! **


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel didn't understand how he made it into Dean Harvelle's class but he did. He especially didn't understand when he walked in the following Monday to see only twelve of the dozens of students who were in the class. His eyes widened a little at Dean, who stood in the front of the class, already looking back. "Have a seat Cas." He said simply and casually. Castiel was bewildered, but still obliged. Dean had begun to teach, only to be interrupted by Cas raising his hand.

"Where is everybody?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"This is everybody."

Castiel looked around before looking back at the teacher. He understood now that these were the only people who made it into the class with their essays.

If that was the case, then how the hell did he make it in? He practically trashed Dean in his paper. What made him keep him in the class? He looked around again to realize that there were six girls and six guys. Did he do it on purpose?

"Can I continue teaching now, or do you have anymore questions that can't wait until I'm finished?" he asked raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms. Cas grimaced and glared at the man, shaking his head.

Although Dean wasn't really a teacher and his job was a complete and utter sham, he still had to actually teach the class so that he didn't lose the job that he needed in order to keep an eye on his target, whom he happened to have an argument with on a daily basis.

"Good."

Dean didn't understand why he couldn't just kill the son of a bitch then and there on day 1, instead of keeping up the whole "Mr. Harvelle" scam. John told him to wait, so of course, waiting is exactly what he did. Dean was bewildered at his father's attitude. Under any normal circumstances, John was a shoot-first-ask-questions-later type of man.

But these weren't normal circumstances. Over the weeks, they heard the same name from several of Lilith's head demons.

Throughout the couple of weeks that passed, Dean and Cas had an argument practically every day. It was what made debate class so ironic. Cas was supposed to be arguing, but with the students instead. Dean was supposed to observe.

An assignment came up where there were six pairs partnered up and every pair was assigned a different controversial topic. Castiel was partnered with a girl named Anna. Their topic was racial profiling and whether it was wrong or just. Anna thought it was just while Castiel decided to speak for the opposing side. Through the weeks the class worked individually on practicing arguments and creating points for their arguments.

The day of the debates, Castiel walked to class with a smile on his face and a certain oomph in his step. He had every intention of winning today's debate. Anna didn't seem like she could hold her ground very well in an argument from what he has seen before. Throughout the week that Dean tested the students and singled them out to argue something that he knew they stood for, she was shaky and nervous and couldn't seem to stand her ground. He walked through the double doors to find that she wasn't even in her seat. She wasn't there at all. He rolled his eyes and sighed, sitting down.

"Does everybody have what they need to debate?" Dean asked as soon as he took roll. Everyone agreed except for Cas.

"Not exactly." He stated, causing Dean to barely glance at him. "Oh? And why is that blue eyes?" he questioned sarcastically, causing Cas to roll his eyes once again.

"I kind of need my partner. You know, the one I'm supposed to debate against?" Dean finally looked over and simply nodded.

"Well you have your points, correct?"

Cas nodded.

"Then you're ready to go. So you're debating."

"Against who?" Castiel demanded, narrowing his eyes and straightening in his seat.

"Me. You should be used to it by now." Cas sighed at his reference to their daily arguments.

It was quiet throughout the class and the confidence Cas had dimmed. Dean was an ass but he never seemed to back down from an argument. There was obviously a reason he was teaching this class. He had no problem stating his opinions and standing behind them no matter what. Although Cas was easily irritated by the man, he always thought about what he had to say when class was over. He admired him in a way. There was no way in hell he'd ever admit it aloud.

"And how exactly will you determine who wins?" he asked Dean, skepticism in his voice.

"You'll get credit for participating. So stop asking questions and tell me what your topic is."

"Racial profiling. Wrong or just."

"Well I Say it's just." Dean almost smirked at the reaction to wash upon the student. He always did whatever he could to get under his skin since he wasn't able to do much more. Yet.

The fire instantly swelled up inside of Cas.

"How the-" he breathed deep before continuing, "I disagree." He said bluntly. Dean wasn't phased in the slightest by Cas' irritation.

"It's wrong. It's discrimination. It is completely and utterly unjust." He defended. Dean instantly countered him.

"Tell me something Cas. You see three people in a room. One is cold and _dead_ on the floor and the other two standing over the body. It was obviously one of them that did it. The first guy's name is Chuck. Chuck is clean shaved, wearing slacks and a button-up shirt tucked in his pants. His hair is combed; he has glasses, and is wearing expensive looking shoes. The other guy is Gordon. He is tall, skinny, wearing a dirty basketball jersey and his pants are hanging off his ass. He has a large gold chain hanging from his neck, a dirty baseball hat on his head, and the gun in his _hand._ Tell me, Cas: Who's guilty? Chuck or Gordon?" he raised his eyebrows at Cas, who looked more irritated now than ever.

"So you're saying because Gordon is black-"

"No. No I am not saying it is because he is black. In fact, I didn't say he was black at all, did I? But you assumed he was because of his choice in attire. That's profiling isn't it? You see? Everyone does it."

"No, it isn't profiling. The only wrongdoing I just committed was stereotyping, for one. Two, just because most people do it, doesn't make it right. How do we know that Chuck didn't shoot the person and Gordon walked in and took the gun from him? How do we know that the two people didn't kill this person _together?_ We don't." Dean had a look of approval in his eyes but said nothing. He grimaced and nodded. "Strong point." He replied. But Cas wasn't done.

"Now tell me something, Mr. Harvelle." He mocked Dean. "Tupac. Kanye West. Jay-Z. Oprah. Maury-" the class chuckled- "You'd assume their fans are mostly black or ghetto."

"That's because everybody that watches Maury most likely is." The class laughed again.

"Did you know that over 70 percent of all of his fans that watch the show are in fact, white?" he questioned. Dean tightened his jaw. "In fact, I know more white people that watch Oprah than I do any other race."

"Finishing argument." Dean kept an emotionless face and surpressed another smile.

"Chuck was a psychotic man obsessed with his neighbor, whose son, Gordon, was out of the house and came home to find that Chuck had murdered his mother. He fought him for the gun and then held him hostage until the cops arrived. Racial profiling is wrong. If you judge things based on the race of the people who like them, then you will get absolutely nowhere."

Dean nodded, secretly pleased with how Cas handled the debate. "Have a seat." The class sat in shocked silence. It was the closest they have seen Dean to giving up on an argument. This was the first time he had little to say as an opposing side.

"You win the debate." Dean stated, chuckling a bit. He couldn't deny that Castiel was a very aggressive and passionate arguer. The second the word "passionate" crossed his mind, he instantly changed his train of thought, deciding that was too strange to think.

Everything about Castiel seemed normal. It bothered Dean because he was the type of hunter to see when something was wrong instantly.

The rest of the class had their debates before the class ended. When the bell rang, Dean asked Castiel to see him.

"I would say to keep your emotions to yourself when arguing because it is unprofessional and usually gets in the way but.. it seems to work for you." He noted. Cas suppressed a smile. "Thanks." He replied shortly.

After Dean had called the student over, he didn't really know what to do next. He assumed it was just because he wanted to get a closer look at Cas. He had no idea what to say for calling him over.

"Just uh… keep it up I guess." Dean said, now unsure as to why he really asked the student to stay behind. Cas simply nodded, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "You can go." He said, turning away. Castiel grimaced but oblidged. They merely nodded at each other before he left.


	3. Chapter 3

**BEFORE READING, GO BACK TO CHAPTERS 1 AND 2 BECAUSE I RE-WROTE THEM.  
Now that I got your attention, please do so:) I accidentally left out the plot I had in mind while writing the first two chapters so I went back and fit it in as I had planned all along. So if you don't go back and read, you are going to be extremely confused. Thanks so much guys. And thank you for the reviews from the last two chapters.  
Happy reading! (hopefully.)**

* * *

Castiel shoved his hands into his pockets and trudged in the doors of the local bar a couple of blocks near his school. He sighed heavily and headed straight for the bartender. Depressing music played in the background along with a football game on the screen that hung above the bar. There was slight chatter all around from local students and visitors around the bar. "What do you want?" the tender shot at Cas. He grimaced. "Can I just get a beer?" he asked simply. The man simply nodded.

"Why is someone like you at a shitty little bar like this?" he heard a gruff voice say from across the bar. He looked down to see Dean Harvelle, a scotch glass in his hand. Cas narrowed his eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?" he countered, looking towards him.

"I don't know. I guess you just seemed a little more high maintenance than to be somewhere like this." He shot a grin at the bar tender, who glared at him for his comment then downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass. Anybody could tell you that his smile was absolutely perfect. Everything seemed to be physically. His eyes. His smile. His build.  
Keeping his head directed ahead of him, Cas let his eyes slowly move to the side to glance at Dean. He smiled a little in a breath of a laugh. "I could say the same thing about you Mr. Harvelle." He muttered.

"Dean."

"Right."

It was quiet from there.

"Well come on." He heard Dean say as he turned to look at him. He was putting his leather jacket on and walking towards the door.

"What?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. Dean turned around to face him.

"Lets go."

"Go where exactly?" he scoffed. Dean smirked, making Cas want to roll his eyes.

"Do you want to spend the rest of your Saturday night here? Or do you want to go somewhere that's actually fun?" he demanded, looking straight at him. Cas knew that he was right. He didn't really want to be there. He just wanted to get out of his dorm room. He didn't have a roommate so it was always quiet around and for the night, he didn't want to deal with it. He wanted some sort of noise to be around. So he chose the local bar. He sighed and stood up to see Dean already halfway out the door. He picked up speed to catch up. "What do you have in mind?" he mumbled. Dean just shrugged, shook his head, and laughed under his breath.

"Does it matter?"

"Uh yeah. Yeah it does." Dean could hear the irritation lace its way into Castiel's voice. He chuckled, fixing the collar to his large brown leather jacket.

"The element of surprise is a beautiful thing, blue eyes. Zip it and enjoy the ride."

There he went with the stupid nickname again. It wasn't like it was just Cas who got one. So he wasn't singled out or anything. All of the students had a nickname accordingly to their appearance by now. Anna was "redhead", Becky, who had large glasses, was called "Specs." Sam's nickname was "moose" because he was abnormally tall and muscular. Cas guessed the first thing Dean noticed about him was his eyes. It was probably because their first confrontation involved glaring and arguing.

Castiel was about to make a remark along the lines of "What ride?" until he came to a stop behind Dean at a sheer black 1967 Chevy Impala. Dean pulled out a set of keys and walked around to the driver's side. Cas stared at him bewildered. "This is your car?" he implored. Dean ignored him and slammed his door shut. After that, Cas quickly opened the door and got in, slamming the door. As Dean started the car, Cas felt himself get chills throughout his body as he heard the rumble of the engine. It sounded perfect. He looked over at Dean, who was looking out his window chucking.

"You got a girlfriend, Cas?" he pondered as they drove down one of the main roads of the city. Cas lowered his eyebrows but answered the question anyway.

"Nope."

Dean just nodded.

"So what were you doing at a bar?" he pondered next. "I know for a fact that you can't be drinking age." Cas looked over at the man.

"I'm 19." he said simply. Dean nodded. "Yeah. Which means you aren't 21."

"They don't ask for ID."

Cas felt that it was his turn to ask questions in order to change the subject.

"So what is the story behind this?" he motioned towards the dashboard.

"What?" Dean looked at Cas in the corner of his eye. "The car?" Cas nodded. "It was my dad's when he was younger." he stated simply.

"Is..he..?" Castiel pondered for a minute, thinking about how Dean used the word 'was.' He jumped slightly when Dean chuckled.

"He's alive." he cut him off. "Don't worry." He looked at Cas in the corner of his eye and continued speaking with a slightly suspicious subtlety in his voice that Cas apparently hadn't noticed.

"John Winchester, actually." he watched for Castiel's reaction and was slightly disappointed when there was barely a reaction at all. Dean had never spoken of John as his father to anyone before- unless they were about to be killed. John always believed having a link such as family was too dangerous. They hadn't even hunted together more than a dozen times in the last twenty years. But Dean was getting more and more anxious every day. He had been watching this Castiel kid for weeks now and there wasn't a sign of anything.

Cas narrowed his eyes.

"John Winchester as in the same John Winchester who captured the serial killer in Auburn? The 20 body count missing persons case? That John Winchester?"

Dean felt himself sigh. Of course that would be how his father was remembered- from the one time John took the help of the Cayuga county sheriff and the said sheriff told the press just about everything but the fact that they had hunted vampires and used one of their bodies as the "serial killer's" body.

Dean feigned a rather large grin and nodded. "Bingo." he replied. Castiel's eyes widened slightly.

"Oh I gotta meet him." he insisted. Dean felt incredibly lucky that his father was in town checking in on things. (In other words, making sure Dean hadn't done anything to screw up.) That way, they could just take care of the situation together and grill this thing in the privacy of his own home rather than taking him all the way out into the middle of the woods somewhere.

"Well he's leaving tonight, but maybe we can catch him." he offered, holding back a chuckle. "What's the big deal anyway?"

"I am dying to hear what actually happened."

"I'm sure everyone is." he mumbled, looking at the road now.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Dean made an illegal U-turn and headed towards the home he had purchased with the help of his father's reward for catching the serial killer of Auburn. After a couple of weeks, he had grown tired of motel room after motel room.

He figured that his dad was going to be pissed that he had the enemy in the impala with him. But he was sick and tired of waiting. He was a grown man and he was getting too fed up with following his father's orders like a soldier. He felt more like a lost puppy.

At first Dean didn't notice it, but there was something way off about Castiel. He was too former. Too proper. He spoke in a way that no other kid his age did. He had a very large vocabulary and he had no problems using it. It let Dean know that something was up with him. He just had to figure out what. That was the plan for the night.

Dean pulled into the driveway of his house, which was on the very outskirts of town. He didn't have neighbors. The nearest house was about half a mile away. His house was just a simple, small house, designed to look like a log cabin. It was a little more stepford than Dean had planned, but a house was a house. Anything was better than those damned hotel rooms.

He didn't know if his father was gone or if his truck was just in the garage so he led Cas into the dark house and told him to wait in the living room.

After about five minutes of waiting, Cas grew impatient and followed down the hallway of the house anyway.

Dean sighed as he looked in all of the rooms in the back of the house, his father nowhere in sight. "Damn it." he growled, heading back down the hallway.

Just as soon as Cas made it halfway down the hall, he found himself being pinned against the wall by Dean, who was now in his face and forcefully holding him down.

"Jesus Christ!" he snapped in a deep, husky tone. "I thought I told you to wait in the living room." he whispered irritated. Castiel remained frozen, his eyes still widened. Dean stood there for another thirty seconds, his face still inches away from Castiel's, everything running through his mind at once. Something came over him, changing his mind about his plans for Cas. He stepped away hesitantly, leaving Cas there looking at him bewildered.

Castiel's heart was racing impeccably as he tried to catch his breath. He didn't pay much attention to the fact of how close they just were. He finally spoke. "What is wrong with you?" he hissed finally, glaring at Dean, who glared right back. "I told you to wait-"

"Who the hell else would it be in your hallway Mr. Harvelle?" he demanded. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes.

"It could have been anyone!" he rubbed his forehead. "My dad left. We missed him."

He couldn't figure out for the life of him why he hadn't just gotten the other man and tied him up the second he got the chance. There was something about what had just happened that instantly changed his mind.

Why didn't he do what he was supposed to? More importantly, why didn't Cas just attempt to kill him when he pinned him down like that? Dean was beyond confusion by now. He guessed that was the reason why he let him go. Why fight when the opposing side wasn't even bothering with him?

He had really started to wonder why Castiel didn't try to attack him or better yet, kill him just then. Something wasn't right with this hunt. He just couldn't figure out what. The only thing he was sure of was that his dad was going to be pissed.

Not only did he take Cas to his house, when he wasn't supposed to come in contact with him in any way besides school, but he didn't kill him or grill him when he had the chance. He didn't even call his father to let him know what was going on. He wouldn't hear the end of this.

* * *

**Well there you guys go finally. Hopefully you went back to the first and second chapter to re-read them because of the changes. I wasn't all there when writing them so I left out every intentional idea that I had for this story in the first place. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this and review if you like:)**


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